Rainbow's End - Wizard (9 page)

Read Rainbow's End - Wizard Online

Authors: Corrie Mitchell

BOOK: Rainbow's End - Wizard
9.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘Have
you
spoken to the boy?’ Ariana asked, and he nodded.

‘I’ve sort of jumped the gun,’ he said. ‘I’ve told him about Rainbow’s End… how it’s different from the Earth… He has so many questions…’

‘Have you told him about me?’

‘No.’ John shook his head.

‘Are you going to?’

He looked at Ariana, frowning. ‘Do you want me to?’ he asked.

It was her turn to frown, and after a few seconds: ‘Maybe just a little… to prepare him. I don’t want him to be scared when he gets here.’

‘I don’t think he
will
be,’ John said, ‘but I’ll tell him. As much as I think is necessary…’ He got up.

‘John?’

‘Yes, Ariana?’

‘What do you think of him, John? Of
Thomas?’

The big man stood silently for a minute, the sun warm on his face and a breeze playing with his beard
; knowing what she really meant, thinking before he answered.

Then, ‘I think he’ll stay
, Ariana.’

 

*****

 

The lorry was creaking and groaning and the cab jerked and shuddered like an ancient roller-coaster being pulled to the top of its track. The wind roared through the open window on Izzy’s side, but it was too late to close it - its mechanism was already damaged beyond repair. He turned and looked through the small window at his back, at the load-bed behind. There were plastic-wrapped packages flying everywhere; green, black, yellow and red ones. Small and smaller ones; big ones and bulky ones; short ones and long ones. Square ones… (Orson’s).

Maggie was sleeping and Izzy tried covering her with his floating-around-the-cab jacket, but it kept drifting of
f and he gave up. The lorry had turned sideways. It broke three, sometimes four colours of the rainbow, and Izzy reflected on the physics. One colour was best; two was all right, but only for a short time; three or more meant death. ‘To man or machine,’ he thought to himself, watching the vehicles long gear-lever disappear, then re-emerge from the roof of the cab; the expensive radio seemed to melt, and then rearrange itself into something resembling a toaster.

 

*****

 

They had crossed several small streams and Thomas had eventually - after Big John reassured him that there were no thorns at Rainbow’s End - taken off his muddy wet sandals. He walked barefoot, swinging the sandals from the fingers of one hand. The cool, smooth rocks and loamy soil felt good under his feet and he felt delighted horror as thick brown mud pushed and squelched and bubbled between his toes.

The forest seemed
different here: denser and older. Mossy green splashes grew in dark shady places, and Thomas saw several rings of snowy-white mushroom pods sprout and spray in loamy brown hollows. The trees were massively thick and ancient - some with weird and wonderful shapes, and he wondered about the tales and secrets they would tell, if they could…

‘Just this one more stream
,’ Big John said. It was slightly wider and had a small wooden bridge, almost as broad as it was long. The large man stopped in its middle and said, ‘This used to be a hanging-bridge, but Orson - and Tessie - fell off it so many times that he changed it.’ He waved a hand at its width - ‘
And
made it wide enough to accommodate his trolley…’ Smiling wryly, ‘I liked the old one more.’ A shrug. ‘It fit in better.’

They walked on,
down and off the small structure. The cottage was only twenty metres or so in front of them, and John stopped. ‘Orson’s place,’ he said softly, and put a finger on his lips, minding Thomas to be quiet.

It stood on stilts and was built of logs, in the shade of several trees
. Vines and ferns and ivy, and curtains and ropes of gossamer green festooned its roof and walls, making it a part of the living forest. Four wooden steps led onto a long open veranda, and Thomas saw a hammock suspended low above its floor. Several empty bottles stood or lay around, waiting to be cleaned up.

The front door protested
softly when Big John pushed it open, and he almost fell over a rubbish bin overflowing with empty tins and more bottles when he turned and gestured to Thomas to follow.

The room was a mess
and a dreadful smell hung in the air. Empty glasses and bottles and beer mugs stood everywhere, with dust and dirt on everything except the huge television - which showed a snowy test-screen.

Orson was
sunk into a leather recliner, snoring and hiccupping as Thomas had last heard him do at Broken Hill. He wore only a pair of Bermuda shorts, and what looked to be the same orange socks of four days ago. His hands and arms lay spread to the sides, and Thomas watched in fascination as the wart (now, liver-coloured) next to his red-veined and bulbous nose, trembled and jumped in cadence with the loud, sawing sounds issuing from his wide-open mouth.

Tessie lay sprawled on a moth-eaten but obviously expensive rug. She never woke when John prodded her with one big foot; instead, let go a thunderous fart, so foul it sent the two visitors rushing outside, gasping for fresh air.

 

*****

 

‘Snow!’ Frieda sounded incredulous.

Annie nodded and her eyes were troubled. The two of them were walking to the Rainbow
Pool; strolling really, just looking at everything and enjoying the day.

She said
, ‘I don’t know who he left on the other side, Frieda. He hasn’t talked about it yet.’ She paused to pick a deep-red rose from one of the hundreds of thornless rosebushes growing wild all over, and inhaled its scent, before pushing its stem into the hair above Frieda’s left ear, arranging the younger woman’s hair around it. ‘But whoever it is, he misses him, or her, or
them
, very much.’ She frowned and her expression turned thoughtful. ‘He brought a photo-album with him. Maybe… I think I’ll look in on him tonight.’

 

The children saw them coming and some left the water, running to meet them, clutching and touching at their summer-dresses and their hands; all jabbering at the same time. The two women laughed and joked, and held their hands and twirled and danced with them until they reached the pool’s bank; then Annie stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled, loud enough to put a stationmaster to shame. Frieda and she began gesturing and waving at the children still in the water to come out, and the disappointment on their faces made Annie laugh.

‘We should have brought ice-
cream!’ she shouted at Frieda.

 

*****

 

They’d left the forest and were stopping at the various pools; Big John explaining their purpose, if any. There was the “Gem Pool”. Thomas could see the actual stones strewn over its bottom, glittering blue and red and green - just as they did against the cave walls. The “Golden Pool” - the water had a golden tint due to the thousands of nuggets on its sandy bottom; some just flakes, others as large as Big John’s fist. ‘Both pools fund Rainbow’s End’s day to day existence,’ John explained as they continued up the silver chain of the river, passing the “Fishing-Pool” (where the children fished - what else?).

The next pool was
very still, and Thomas thought, very deep. Several weeping willows stood on both its banks; under one, a wooden bench. Big John sat down and patted the space next to him.

‘I call this
“John’s Pool”,’ he said, after Thomas had sat down. His eyes were serious. ‘I come here when I need to be by myself: When I need time out… time to think.’ He picked up a small stone and skimmed it over the deep green water: quiet then, and at peace with himself.

 

After a while: ‘There were gods once… I think there still are. Or superior beings - call them what you will.’ John shrugged. ‘Powerful beings capable of feats and things, and thoughts and concepts, impossible to us mortals; things… actions…we cannot begin to grasp…’ He looked at Thomas for understanding, then back at the pool.

‘A long time ago -
many hundreds of years, maybe thousands - in a different planetary system, one such god lived on a planet very much like the Earth. He ruled with wisdom and love, and his people were happy and prospered. For many centuries. Then he fell in love. With a mortal; a normal flesh and blood woman.


Like Annie, or Frieda,’ John interrupted himself, smiling at Thomas; then continued. ‘He asked to be allowed to marry her, and knowing he would do so in anyway, the council of gods eventually gave the union their go-ahead. But not their blessing.
And
put a price on it.

‘Karan -
that was the god’s name - would stay a god, but he would lose his immortality. He would still rule his world, but he would
age, albeit slowly, and eventually die. This was done to discourage others… other gods, from attempting the same folly. Karan agreed - such was his love for Kyrstyn, the mortal woman, and they married.

‘Their love was a wonderful thing and no two beings were ever happier.  Everywhere they went, they went together; and everything they did, they did together. The world they were in prospered further and two children were born to them. Twins: a boy and a girl. They called them Kraylle and Ariana.

‘But…’ Big John looked at Thomas again. ‘There’s always a “but”, isn’t there?’ His smile was sad. ‘Anyway… As always, there were the malcontents. People who deem themselves superior to others: more on par with gods than mortals - some imagine themselves capable of achieving even more than gods…’

Big John paused and when he continued again, his voice had become softer,
sombre. ‘There is a way to kill a god… They found it - the malcontents - and one day, after leading Karan and his wife into an ambush, they killed him. And her. They were going for the children as well, but to some of the rebels, the… malcontents, two killings were enough. They prevented the same fate from befalling Ariana and her brother - at least temporarily. The children’s nanny was informed of the danger to them, and she helped them escape. The boy and girl, only five or six years old; demi-gods, and not wanted by either of their own ilk - gods or mortals - roamed the universe for many, many years, searching for a place to inhabit, and hopefully, to be content - if not happy in.

‘Gods are almost always associated with an element. It is called their god-sign.
The twins shared the same sign - water: its presence - preferably its abundance, would be paramount when it came to choosing a place in which to settle.

‘Ariana preferred its basic form and was called. She chose Rainbow’s End.

‘Kraylle chose ice and was passed over. He took Desolation.’

They were quiet again, for a few long minutes, while T
homas digested what Big John had said.

Then, ‘Is Ariana the person Orson was screaming and swearing at when we got here?’

‘She is.’ John nodded.

‘And she’s a …’ Frowning.

‘God,’ John nodded again, then, ‘Goddess…
Demi
-goddess…’ Correcting himself.

Thomas nodded, pushed his hands under the tops of his legs and leaned forward, looking at something far away; confused and disbelieving and wanting to ask a million more questions.

John saw them in his eyes, and said, ‘Keep your questions for Ariana, Thomas. She’ll answer them much better than I can,’ adding, ‘You’re seeing her tomorrow night.’

Another quiet minute, and then Thomas asked, ‘Can I ask a question about something else?’

‘Of course.’ A nod. ‘But just one,’ John said, ‘for now.’

Thomas’
mind ran in a hundred directions at once. He had so many questions.

He a
sked the most burning. ‘What happened to my room?’ justifying it - ‘Annie said I should ask
you
.’

‘Ask me what?’ John
threw another stone in the water.

‘About my room
,’ Thomas said. ‘What happened to my room?’

John
- innocently, ‘What happened to it?’

‘It changed,’ said Thomas, exasperated. ‘It changed to
… to…’

‘To what you dreamed.’ John
shrugged, matter of fact. Thomas nodded, big-eyed, astounded.


Remember what I told you yesterday, Thomas,’ Big John said. ‘Rainbow’s End is a place where dreams come true.
Everything
you dream,
everything
you want badly enough - they happen. They come true.’ His eyes crinkled and he reached out a huge hand with which he squeezed Thomas’ shoulder. ‘Lucky for us - only the good. There are no bad here - in Rainbow’s End. You can have bad dreams, but that’s what they’ll stay. Dreams. You don’t want them - so they don’t happen. They don’t come true.’

‘I
wasn’t dreaming when my bathroom became bigger,’ Thomas said, and John answered, simply, ‘neither were any of us when the
dining-room
kept getting bigger, Thomas. We just willed it, wanted it to, subconsciously.’ He paused. ‘The same thing happened to your bathroom - it got bigger because you
wanted
it to.’ 

Other books

Searching for Tomorrow (Tomorrows) by Mac, Katie, Crane, Kathryn McNeill
Assassin by Tara Moss
Pyg by Russell Potter
The Walls of Byzantium by James Heneage
The Last Horizon by Anthony Hartig
Falling Into Us by Jasinda Wilder
Saints and Sinners by Edna O'Brien
After We Fall by Marquita Valentine